


"It's a Mother's Curse to Worry over Her Kids"

by farad



Category: Magnificent Seven (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-19
Updated: 2012-03-19
Packaged: 2017-11-02 04:32:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/364999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/farad/pseuds/farad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Notes: in response to the Daybook Bingo challenge "Unexpected Visitor"; set after "Obsession" and encouraged by an excerpted scene that Van posted on Daybook (http://mag7daybook.dreamwidth.org/189570.html), in which Louis runs away from Ella's farm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"It's a Mother's Curse to Worry over Her Kids"

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks for Huntersglenn, JoJo, and the people at WEC for the betas, and to Van for the inspiration and permission to use the scene.

_CUT SCENE:  
Louis is determined to saddle up even if it kills him and it might. Staggering, he heaves the saddle over his horse and ties the cinch. Then, he doubles over in agony. That’s how Vin finds him as he rides by._

_Vin: Ain’t you supposed to stay in bed?  
Louis: I’m hightailin’ it outta here.  
Vin: What’s your hurry? Handsome Jack’s gone.  
Louis: That ain’t what’s scarin’ me off.  
And he glances toward the main house.   
Vin: Miss Ella? What’s she got to do with it?  
Louis: Runnin’ my mouth is what got me shot in the first place.  
He zips his lip. Pulls himself onto his horse, grimacing and damn near passing out.  
Vin: You’re not fit to ride. Give it a coupla days rest.  
Then, to Vin’s amazement, Louis rides off. Nathan arrives just after.  
Nathan: What’s his story?  
Vin: Can’t say for sure but I aim to find out.   
END CUT SCENE. _

 

She rode into town in the late afternoon, on a tired horse whose head drooped low. It stopped at the first watering trough, outside the granary, and she slid off the saddle. She murmured in the horse's ear as she tied off the worn reins to the hitching post. 

Her hair was tied back, long black strands that clung to the damp cloth of her rough-spun blouse. Her skirts had once been colorful, but they were old, the color faded and the hems frayed. She pulled a pack from the horse's back, petting the animal's side as she did, then she turned toward the town, looking around.

It was then that Buck saw her face. Her cheekbones were high and arched, her eyes wide and dark. She was tired, but the lines of her face were from that, not from age.

Buck stepped off the boardwalk without a thought, his long stride bringing him to her side before she had decided which way to go. "You need some help there, ma'am?" he asked, touching the brim of his hat. He extended a hand, offering to carry the burden of her pack, but she clutched it more tightly against herself. "I'm Buck Wilmington, one of the protectors of this town."

Her gaze was direct but her silence made him wonder if she'd understood him. He opened his mouth to say more, but before the first word came out, she nodded once and said, "Larabee. I must speak with him."

Her words were clipped but even with the heavy Mexican accent, he still understood. And his own smile faltered. "Ol' Chris? Well, ma'am, I don't think that's the best idea at the moment – he ain't in the best of moods right now - "

He glanced to where she was rubbing her belly and for a second, he wondered what sort of trouble Chris actually had gotten himself into. Surely Chris wouldn't be so – the very thought of it made him ill. Especially now, in the wake of all that had happened in the past few weeks, in the wake of all they had found out about Ella Gaines and what she had done to Chris.

"That woman, Gaines. Louis is dead because of her," she said, her words flat and hard. "I will see Larabee."

Buck stared at her, his mind still pondering the possibilities – until the words started to make sense. Louis, the man who worked for Ella Gaines, had been shot by Handsome Jack's men. He'd disappeared from his room before everything had fallen apart and they'd learned the truth about Ella. And before Chris had been shot.

She stared back at him, and he saw something else in her wide, dark eyes: pain. It was something he had seen often in the days since they had returned from that damned place, something he usually saw in green, but even in dark brown, it was impossible to confuse.

Pain and anger. And hate.

He had to look away. It was too much to see, too much to accept in the eyes of a beautiful woman. 

Hell, it was too much to accept in Chris' eyes. But as he thought that, he caught sight of the slouched figure sitting on the boardwalk, the blanket draped around his pale shoulders, the swath of white from the bandages stark in the shadows. He was there when he was awake, which was more and more of the time these days, sat there staring into the distance as if he could draw the bitch out of the very sand of the desert.

"I must speak with him," she said again. "I have information he will want."

"You know where she is?" someone asked, and it was only as he found himself looking back at her that he realized he had spoken.

She, too, was staring at Chris, her face expressionless. She still held the pack pressed against her, but one of her hands was rubbing over her belly, slowly, steadily, as if to soothe.

"Yes," she said softly. "I know." She started forward, her steps determined. He reached out instinctively, thinking of Chris and his weakness and his anger.

But as his fingertips brushed the course weave of her shirt, he knew better. She ignored him, and he didn't offer any more resistance. Instead, he followed her across the dusty street, nodding to Vin as he appeared out of the shadows behind Chris, his features worn and dirty from another day on the hunt. The two of them stood close as she stopped in front of Chris, refusing to sit or to let go of her pack, her words terse and short, her hand never leaving her belly.

"You are the man she killed for." Her voice was still quiet but it was hard now, carrying a layer of scorn. 

Behind Chris, Vin stiffened, but Chris' head turned slowly to look at her. They stared at each other for a long time, so long that Buck reached out again, thinking to take her arm and draw her away. Chris didn't need more anger, and she didn't need to be in his line of sight, not now. 

Buck didn't need another dead woman on his hands, either.

But as Buck caught her elbow, Chris said slowly, "Reckon I am. Wasn't my doing."

She pulled away from Buck's touch and Chris glanced at Buck as she said, "She killed my Louis. Because of you."

"She shoot him again?" Vin asked, his words as low as hers and as hard. "Last I saw, he was getting on a horse he had no business trying to ride."

She looked up at him, her dark hair shimmering as it moved in the shadows cast by the roof over the boardwalk. "He had to leave. She would have killed him in that bed. Just as she tried to kill you and your compadres."

Vin held her gaze but Buck saw his shoulders drop a touch. They knew she was right.

She looked back at Chris. "The wound festered. He died two days ago." Her voice caught at the last, and Buck waited for the tears. Instead, she shook her head once, as if clearing away the pain, and went on. "That man, her man, the one who worked for her - "

"Jack Avril," Buck said quietly, helping her out.

"Yes, him," she agreed, her eyes not leaving Chris, "he shot Louis because she ordered it. Because my Louis knew too much." She barely moved, just a slight bend at the waist, a slight hunch of her shoulders. "It was her command, her desire. And she must pay for that, for taking my Louis away from me and from his _bambino_. Could you do that? If you knew where she was, could you make her pay?"

Chris sat up straight and leaned forward in the chair, the blanket slipping off his shoulders. His face went white and his forehead wrinkled in pain, but his jaw was set and his eyes were bright.

For the first time since that morning when he'd run half-dressed out of Ella Gaines' house, he looked like the man who had dragged Blackfox down to Purgatorio to find Cletus Fowler.

"Where is she?" he asked, his voice hoarse. Vin moved also, slipping from behind the chair to stand close, close enough to hear.

"You will kill her." There was no question in it.

The fire in Chris' eyes was brighter. "Yes, I will," he agreed.

Her hand settled on her belly as she said softly, "Then I will tell you this, to avenge my Louis. For the life of our child."

It was Inez and Mary who drew her – Isabella – away from the hunt itself. She would have gone, and it was only concern for her unborn child that finally stopped her.

But weeks later, after it was done and Chris had finally come back from visiting the graves in Eagle Bend, it was to Isabella that he brought the title to the land where Hilda had died. The title had been in the name of 'Mrs. Chris Larabee', and the Judge gave no question when Chris brazenly signed it over to Mrs. Louis Santiago, in the name of her child.

And it was to her son Louis Adam Santiago that a carved wooden horse appeared every Christmas.


End file.
